Chapter I: Birth of a Jedi
The starlines ceased, finally. The long journey from the bright center of the universe to the distant fringes of where the Mid Rim ended and the Outer Rim began, was complete. Returning to Coruscant would be just as long a journey, but focusing on the task at hand, rather than dwelling upon the ensuing mediocrity of eventless hyperspace travel, would be paramount to success.
The sleek, wedge-shaped personal transport knifed through the void of space alone, approaching a blue-green globe with smatterings of earthen tones. The only company to be had were a relative handful of outdated comm satellites; the few links that this faraway world enjoyed with the rest of the galaxy. The thin-faced, youthful Corellian Vayshe Garm raised a curved eyebrow and scrutinized the planet with her ice blue eyes.
"It's even more beautiful than I was told ..." she thought, pensively. "But so remote. Thankfully, this should be over with in a day -- ."
Suddenly, her thoughts took a new course. "What would my master think of such an adverse attitude? One of her most infamous analects , after all, is, 'A Jedi must find favor with any environment' ..."
Her resolve renewed, the young Padawan learner swiveled her pilot seat to the left, leaned toward the nav console, and tapped several keys in rapid succession. The projector generated a small holographic image of the approaching planet, accompanied by text;
PLANET: CHALACTA
ENTERED COORDINATES: VILLAGE KOVOR, SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE
ETA: 45 MINUTES
Vayshe took the helm and brought the transport into a descent, penetrating Chalacta's atmosphere. The many colored lights and ornate buildings, temples, and spires, accentuated by the backdrop of the majestic Lak mountain range, comprised the night skyline of the Southern Capital City Veeshypadnam. She watched with silent awe as the transport descended further, and the capital came into perfect panoramic view, like a souvenir holocard image. The first waypoint had been reached.
The Padawan's transport veered toward the east, leaving the city lights for the natural illumination of Chalacta's seven moons and the innumerable shining stars. The transport's two forward illumination beams provided additional visibility. The next waypoint would bring her to a sparsely habited, undeveloped portion of the world. Dutifully following the linear beacon in the form of an archaic railway system, Vayshe set an approach vector toward the village of Kovor. An endless stream of lush, grassy plains, dotted sparingly by tall, gangly palm trees and flanked by short, green-capped mountains, marked her path.
The gentle serenity of pre-dawn was gradually roused by the waxing lights of daybreak. As the faint rays of the sun slowly grew to greater intensity, a blinking artificial light could be seen atop a thin, metallic pole; a lone beacon shrouded in a sea of early dawn mists. "That should be the airstrip ..." Vayshe thought aloud. The transport's repulsorlift engines gave their distinctive whine as Vayshe brought it to a delicate descent to the ground below.
The empty airstrip, apparently unused, was quite spartan in appearance; the only structure nearby was a one storey saffron colored Adobe building, its tiled roof riddled with various antennas and satellite dishes. Steam suddenly shot from the transport's dorsal vents as the aft bay doors opened, followed by the extension of an exit ramp. A slim, hooded figure, clad in the trademark earthen brown robes of a Jedi, sat atop a late model swoop. The vehicle exited the ship with a great burst of acceleration.
The swoop came to an abrupt stop after traversing a short distance across the airstrip. The hooded figure dismounted, brandishing a small remote device and pointing it toward the transport. As the ramp retracted and the doors shut, the robed one lowered her hood, revealing a fair-skinned young woman of barely eighteen years. Her meticulously braided blonde hair appeared to mingle with the warming rays of the Chalactan dawn sunlight. Her Padawan braid was draped on her right shoulder.
Handling a datapad in her pocket, Vayshe pressed several buttons, revealing a detailed map, complete with waypoint vectors. "There's the village!" Vayshe exclaimed aloud. "Only thirty kilometers more." The young Padawan glanced in two directions, seeing only grassland, scattered trees, and the hint of a great, distant river in her target horizon. "Hopefully I'll get there before the humidity becomes unbearable for me ..." she pondered to herself.
Straddling her swoop, Vayshe pushed the accelerator, en route to complete her mission. Along the way, the young Jedi sped by several houses, some as simple as mud covered walls and grass thatched roofs. The local inhabitants paid the speeding visitor little heed, working industriously on the tilling of their lands. Even young children, boys and girls alike, could be seen navigating through the tall vegetation, apparently collecting their harvest. Vayshe's brow became furrowed, her eyes unable to divert from the sight.
"No child should ever have to do such things" thought the Padawan. Other words, not quite her own, came to her mind. "We are all luminous beings, each with something so distinctive and significant to contribute to our universe. Always respect each path of life." Vayshe marveled at her new mentor's influence. Master Billaba, member of the Jedi Council, had chosen her, Vayshe Garm, to be her Padawan, despite so many Jedi youth to choose from.
The Chalactan and the Corellian. It was one of the most unusual pairings since that of Master Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. The cultures were as different as night and day. Being raised in the Jedi Temple since infancy had a way of equalizing relationships between species and societies, but genetics was a difficult barrier to breach; it could even determine the difference between a would-be Jedi and non-Force sensitive being, or so some would say.
The first meeting of Master and Padawan was remembered by the latter with perfect clarity. Master Depa told young Vayshe that their disciplic relationship was not forged by mere accident. Brought together by the Force, they would serve to bring balance to each other's material conditionings. "Study hard ..." She told her Padawan. "And follow my lead. In time, you will learn to carry a lead of your own."
The master's lead was followed an enthusiasm tempered by the vigor of youth. The Padawan even braided her hair in the same Chalactan fashion as her master. But her greatest material desire, to travel the galaxy, from one bright, bustling star to another, was a distinctively Corellian trait. One that would not leave her without a great struggle. And why even fight such a harmless, inborn trait?
Vayshe's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sight of a large, wooden sign adjacent to an inhabited area. The sign read, "KOVOR" in Basic, with a transliteration in Chalactan script that she couldn't even begin to attempt to decipher. The Padawan dismounted from the swoop, her boots making contact with the rocky, dusty dirt road, which served the village as street, sidewalk, and a place to herd pack animals to pasture, as well as to distant villages for barter.
There were a hodgepodge of structures flanking the main road; some made with mud and the surrounding vegetation; the more elaborate homes were built with Adobe. Several bronze-skinned village boys, not older than ten or twelve years old, could be seen walking toward the outskirts of the village, herding a group of bulky, white quadrupeds with curved horns atop their heads.
"Jedi!" The young village boys exclaimed, surrounding Vayshe. Even here in the remote areas of Chalacta, the villagers knew of Jedi. "Lightsaber! Show your lightsaber!"
It wasn't typical of a Jedi to comply to outsiders' demands for parlor tricks; it was something that young Padawans were repeatedly warned against before going into the field alone. But these were children in a secluded part of a backwater planet, who would most likely never have another chance to see such a thing. Complying, Vayshe gingerly unhooked a metallic cylinder from her utility belt.
Brandishing her lightsaber, she pushed the button. An opalescent pillar of blue light emerged, accompanied by the tell-tale "snap-hiss" sound, followed by the steady hum. She waved it slowly from side to side while the boys stared with full attention. Finally extinguishing the saber's blade with the touch of a button, she holstered it back onto her belt, while the boys dispersed jabbering in excitement to one another in their native language.
Several young women, carrying baskets filled with flowers wearing ornate jewelry and long, silken dresses of Chalactan design capturing intricate floral designs, crossed the herder boys' path. The two parties exchanged parting words amongst themselves, as the boys ventured into the plains with their beasts, while the group of women returned with their priceless bounty.
A young woman Vayshe's age sporting a pale blue dress, bearing the intention of friendship on her face and with her graceful body movement, broke from the group, and approached the Jedi. "Good morning, stranger. I am Veeshaaka" she said in accented Basic, bowing slightly while folding her hands. Vayshe responded by reciprocating the best that she could, mimicking the custom. "Vayshe Garm. Pleased to meet you ..." she responded in her pleasant tone reserved for diplomatic situations. She was something of a Jedi representative, after all.
"For what reason have you come to our humble village?" The village woman asked the Padawan. So the mission begins. "I'm looking for the family of Vaas Billaba. Do you know where I may find them?" The woman raised her eyebrows. It was then that Vayshe noted the mark of illumination that adorned the villager's forehead. It was quite similar to the one her master had. "Yes! You must be here for the anaparsad ceremony! We are all going there now. Come! Walk with us."
The young village woman took Vayshe gently by the forearm, leading her to the group of women carrying baskets of flowers. While walking together, the group spoke amongst themselves. The young Padawan knew nothing of what they were saying, although the word "Jedi" could be made out once or twice. The group arrived at a huge, ornate one storey house, with an intricately tiled roof. The faint sounds of singing and recitation could be heard from within.
One by one, the village women entered the home, removing their shoes at the porch. Veeshaaka made a gesture pointing to Vayshe's boots. "If you will, please ..." she said melodically. The Padawan nodded, knelt to remove her boots, and followed her guide into the home. Passing through a hallway, the two young women reached a spacious courtyard, where almost one hundred villagers were seated on the floor cross-legged, in a great semi-circle.
The young women who were escorting Vayshe gave her a pleasant glance of farewell. Spreading a blanket across the ground, and sat on there with their flower baskets gathered together, stringing the flowers together with a threads and needles at lightspeed. The Padawan stood in the doorway of the courtyard.
A sparsely-clad, wizened old man with knotted, long white hair, was chanting hymns, sitting by a small fire burning in the center of the circle. His only adornments were a plain white loincloth and a thin, long string, hanging from his shoulder to his torso. It appeared to be a very meager baldric of some kind. Raising both of his hands, he gave what appeared to be a sign of benediction to a couple dressed in thin, white robes seated next to him; a man of approximately forty years and woman of thirty. The woman was holding an infant no older than six months; head completely shaven, dressed in saddling clothes. "My mission ..." The Padawan thought, gazing at the baby.
The elder's recitation of hymns appeared to be over. Veeshaaka, momentarily abandoning her work, rose from her seat on the ground, and stood next to Vayshe. Leaning toward the Jedi's ear, the young village woman whispered, "This is the most important part of the ceremony."
The elder lifted a small container laying next to him and poured a liquid into the fire. It began to burn brightly, while a burning, sweet aroma began to permeate the air. He spoke some words to the father. "This child no longer needs his mother's milk." Veeshaaka translated. "He is strong, healthy, and from now on, he shall take grains." The crowd of villagers cheered jubilantly.
Grabbing a pouch which sat adjacent to the fire, the elder poured a handful of grain into the father's waiting hand. The father took the grain, and fed it to his infant son from the hand. The infant took his fill of the grain without hesitation. Again, the crowd cheered.
The elder spoke again. "What good name do the parents give to this beautiful baby boy?" Veeshaaka translated. The couple looked at each other briefly, while the mother gave her husband a nod of consent. "Sudarshaan!" the father exclaimed clearly to the crowd. The elder's eyes grew wide with surprise, as he spoke again. Veeshaaka dutifully translated through whispers as the elder continued speaking. "Sudarshaan? This is a name in our heritage which denotes the greatest of purity and unrivaled strength, both from within and without. Will you raise him to attain these great qualities?" The father, glancing at the mother briefly, then turning back to the elder, speaking some words.
"I promise, that my son will have these qualities of which you speak. I believe this with great faith."
The elder gazed affectionately at the infant, and then to the audience of villagers. "So be it." He said. Taking a nearby flower petal, he smeared it in ashen powder stored in a nearby container. Cradling the baby Sudarshaan on his left arm, he gently pressed the flower against the infant's forehead. "Your son is now Sudarshaan Billaba. May this lifetime be his time of illumination!"
The gathering of villagers cheered with great gusto. Suddenly, they all rose from their sitting positions in unison, opening their hands, each palm revealing a handful of flowers. Every guest drew their attention to the center as they threw petals at the infant boy and his parents. One of the village girls from Veeshaaka's group navigated through the crowd of guests with an armload of flower garlands of white, yellow, and pink petals. The elder was garlanded first, followed by the father, and the mother. The girl then placed a tiny garland around baby Sudarshaan's neck.
"And now, the great feast shall begin!" The father announced to the guests. "Stay seated, and we shall bring you everything ..."
The guests each found their places on the soft, carpet-like grass of the courtyard floor, while a group of boys presented each guest with plates of knitted leaves.
With a graceful gesture of her arm, Veeshaaka beckoned the Padawan to sit with her group. As she kneeled to cross her legs and find a comfortable position on the grassy floor, the young village girl sat to the left of Vayshe and presented her with a garland of her own. Smiling appreciatively and bowing her head, the young Jedi accepted graciously as the fragrant garland of yellow and white petals was placed over her head.
The father, watching the assembly of seated guests, glanced in Vayshe's direction. Their eyes met, and Vayshe detected a sudden sense of fear and disappointment in the father's eyes. While the young Jedi's task seemed simple enough, it was often called one of the most difficult errands to undertake. The older Jedi often sent Padawan females for this very errand.
Their gaze was interrupted by the arrival of several older men carrying huge pots of steaming food. Each guest was given a pile of grain accompanied by a curry, the staple of the Chalactan diet. A young boy accompanied each server and handed each guest a round, green fruit. Vayshe glanced down at her plate, devoid of utensils. Turning to the right, she gave her guide Veeshaaka an expression of distress. The young village woman responded with a glance of reassurance, grabbing a handful of grain in her right hand, mingling it with the curry, and delicately placing it in her own mouth.
"A Jedi must find favor with any environment." the young Padawan reminded herself, while consuming a handful of grain and curry. Her mouth responded with vehement disapproval, unaccustomed to such foods. It was far too spicy for her tastes. The Jedi frowned upon using excess spice; it aroused the passion of an individual, said one of her textbooks. Being polite to her hosts took higher priority. As she reached to grab another handful, she was interrupted by a voice.
"Jedi ..." A male voice called out to her. As she rose and turned around, she found herself face to face with the father of Sudarshaan. Thin and scholarly, his demeanor looked unmistakably upset, but respectful. "Vaas Billaba" he offered, while bowing slightly. Reciprocating with her own bow, the Padawan replied, "Vayshe Garm". "Where is Depa?" Vaas inquired, his grave expression remaining unchanged.
"Master Depa is settling a border dispute on Malastare." Vayshe replied meekly. "She told me to express her great regret that she could not attend Sudarshaan's anaparsad ceremony --"
"My younger sister has always been so busy." He interrupted with a sigh. "The two of us are all that's left of our family since that marauder raid so many years ago, but sometimes, I feel as if I was the sole survivor. You can go ahead and tell her that I said so."
Vayshe stood there, dumbfounded, unsure of what sort of response to offer. "So this is why they send the Padawans to do such a chore." Vayshe thought pensively. "Today, family angst. Tomorrow, border disputes."
Vaas could sense a moment of awkwardness. "Please excuse me" he said, folding his hands. "You must understand that this is a very stressful time for my wife and I. I feel as if this is the second time that my family has been broken apart." Vayshe nodded, making every effort to be empathic. "Come with me ..." Vaas beckoned, gesturing to the nearby doorway.
Sudarshaan's father led the Padawan into a spacious room filled with the warm glow of natural sunlight. In the corner of the room stood a large crib with intricate designs in the form of wood carvings. Vayshe spotted Sudarshaan resting inside comfortably, the gentle rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic. Vaas' wife sat casually on an adjacent sofa, with an expression of deep contentment.
She too had the Mark of Illumination adorning the space between her forehead and the bridge of her nose. Hair tied back in a long, exquisite braid intertwined with flower blossoms, her eyes indicated a lighthearted woman, leading a simple, yet full life among a close-knit community. Upon noticing the young Jedi, however, a flash of anxiety quickly surfaced on the mother's face.
"Sadvi ... This young lady is Vayshe Garm, Depa's new disciple." Vaas announced to his wife, while gesturing to the Padawan. Sadvi gave a slight, albeit reverent bow of the head, which Vayshe returned in kind. "You are here for our Sudarshaan?" Sadvi softly inquired. The young Jedi gazed into her eyes, giving a somber, affirmative nod. The mother's demeanor of anxiety suddenly melted away, but was replaced with emboldening defiance. "And what if we do not agree? Will the Republic pursue us further?"
Vayshe hesitated, staring through one of the windows at the morning sky, before finally returning Sadvi's gaze. "It's possible." the Jedi finally conceded. "He has a very high concentration of midi-chlorians in his bloodstream. Perhaps more than even Master Depa herself."
Sadvi reluctantly nodded, as Vaas interjected. "This is all my fault. Had I let our village medic handle Sudarshaan's birth, there would have been no blood test. Certainly not in Veeshypadnam where they record these things." Vaas' wife rose from her sofa and took his hand in two of her own. "But you had to, Vaas. He could have died that day. I could have died, too. No village medic could have seen us through."
Gazing first at his wife, and then at the Jedi, Vaas offered one final anxious query, "He will be properly taken care of?" Vayshe nodded eagerly. "Of course. We take very good care of our young in the nurseries. Master Depa will make certain of it. And Master Yoda is the wisest, most gentle teacher that any child could ask for."
Stepping closer toward her husband, Sadvi gently brushed Vaas' cheek with her fingertips. "And he will be with Depa. He will have his family wherever he goes, even as a Jedi." Vaas nodded in acquiescence, as he walked toward the crib, gently roused his infant son, and cradled him in his arms. Both parents, one by one, shut their eyes gently, and touched the baby's forehead with their own.
A tear betrayed the otherwise calm face of Vaas Billaba. "Goodbye, my son ..." he murmured to the infant, his voice faltering from pangs of grief. His wife then took the infant boy. "Sudarshaan, we will be together again." Sadvi said softly, caressing her son's face. No longer able suppress the torrent of emotion inside, beads of tears left the corners of her eyes.
Glancing at her husband, and then gazing upon the young Padawan, Sadvi thrust the infant Sudarshaan into her waiting arms, then turning away to rest her face on the chest of her husband. He embraced her tightly. Glancing at Vayshe, his eyes told her to leave the room; leave Chalacta. Take their son and go, before they could change their minds. It didn't require a Jedi's intuition to understand.
The cityscape of Coruscant glittered in the dusk darkness like a Berubian gem. Rising most triumphantly above the city planet was the multi-pronged Jedi Temple, the pinnacle of the horizon's offerings to the sky. As a landing pad extended from the lower levels of the temple, a lone, slender figure, clad in the earthen robes of the Jedi, could be seen standing along the edge, waiting.
In the distance, twin illumination beams accompanied the descent of a familiar wedge-shaped personal transport. Within seconds, it deftly dropped altitude and speed, as it approached the landing pad. The growl of the repulsors grew louder as the transport hovered above, and finally touched down.
As the transport doors opened and the ramp extended, the lone Jedi waiting on the landing pad removed her hood. It was Depa Billaba, awaiting the return of her Padawan, and the arrival of her nephew. Vayshe Garm exited, cradling the infant Sudarshaan in her delicate, robed arms. As the two Jedis' eyes met, the Padawan bowed her head, in reverence of her Master.
"Master!" Vayshe exclaimed. "Did I take too long in returning?" A slight smile adorned the face of the serene Chalactan Jedi. "Not at all ..." she replied softly. "I have just returned from Malastare only moments ago."
"How were the negotiations?"
"Successful, but otherwise anti-climactic." Depa stepped closer to her Padawan and the infant. Both still wore their flower garlands received from the anaparsad ceremony. Depa gingerly took the end of Vayshe's garland, brought it to her nose, and partook of its fragrance. The Master's bronze cheeks almost seemed to brighten upon contact with the aroma. "I see they conducted the ceremony ..." she said, thoughtfully. Her eyes broke contact, as if they were trying to connect to a distant star in the bright cascade above.
"What have they named my nephew?" Depa asked.
"Sudarshaan."
Depa's eyes widened slightly as she raised her eyebrows. "It must be an impressive name for a Chalactan to have ..." Vayshe pondered, feeling the distinct sense of awe in her Master. Depa gracefully extended her arms toward her Padawan. Anticipating her desire, Vayshe placed Sudarshaan in her Master's waiting arms.
The infant was awake, looking quite content for a newborn who has traveled from one side of the galaxy to the other. The infant Chalactan's brown eyes sparkled with an intelligence seldom seen in even Force sensitive children. "Sudarshaan ..." Depa murmured, gazing into the infant's eyes. He would surely mature to stand above his peers in every respect, of that much, his aunt could be sure of.
"It's been a long journey for both of you." Depa remarked, finally breaking the silence. The Master returned the infant to her Padawan. "When you are finished taking Sudarshaan to the nursery, you should take some food and rest." Vayshe smiled and walked toward the Jedi Temple's Hangarbay.
Before reaching indoors, she turned about to see Master Depa, gazing at the sky, as if in deep meditation. If she didn't know better, she would conjecture that her Master was attempting to divine the future of her charges from the stars above. "Master ..." Vayshe called to Depa. The Jedi Master slowly turned, her robes gently fluttering in the city winds. "It's great to see you again." Her somber look melted away, betraying a hidden feeling of happiness. "It's good to see you both here, where you belong." She answered, her face adorned with a rare smile.
Chapter II: School Days
The young Jedi student Sudarshaan Billaba was a boy of less than five standard years, Walking through the Great Hall of the Jedi found among the upper levels of the Jedi Temple, he was accompanied by several children of various races. A Gand, a Mon Calamari, a Rodian, and a Corellian, to name a few. It was the young Chalactan's first day of instruction in the Bear Clan, the accelerated class of the more precocious Jedi children. As the excitement began to overcome the young child, he recalled the Jedi maxim, "There is no passion, there is serenity", and returned to a state of calm.
The boys, no more than ten in number, were walking in two straight lines, each carrying a round, shell-like helmet under one arm, and a small, slender cylinder in the other hand. The party reached a familiar doorway in the middle of the Great Hall, flanked by a great bronze statue of a Jedi holding an orb. The children entered slowly, two by two.
The room was huge, by childrens' standards. Flooded by the natural light of Coruscant's sun, and accentuated by the many, pointed skyscrapers of the great city planet, the view was quite breath-taking, to say the least. Each of the great windows of the room were adorned with radiant flowers of every color. Despite the many pleasant distractions, however, a far more enticing sight engaged the senses. A teacher no taller than his young charges. A short, but beaming personality, his green skin almost appeared to glow with a warm, somewhat intangible energy, and his ears seemed to spread from one side of the room to the other. His eyes communicated a kindness whose intensity could not be matched. He was known by all as Master Yoda.
"Good morning, Younglings!" Yoda cheerfully announced to the group of young Jedi students. "Good morning, Master Yoda." The children answered in sing-song unison. The venerable Jedi Master tapped his cane on the ground, an informal prompt that class had begun. "Today ..." he began, "I shall see, if already know you, that what you need ..." His classmates giggled as their beloved preceptor's eyes started to dart, almost mischievously, from one side of the classroom to the other.
"When can we use the Force?" Fortunately, Sudarshaan had studied the tiny textbook that Depa had given him sometime ago. After a quick moment of thought, young Sudarshaan eagerly shot his hand straight upward. Yoda glanced in his direction, almost in anticipation, and pointed to the youngster with his cane, in a gingerly manner. "Knowledge and defense. Never for attack." Yoda's ears seemed to perk up as he replied, "And what comes from fear?". Sudarshaan blinked his eyes and blurted out, "anger and aggression!" A smile, which seemingly reached from ear to ear emerged on Yoda's face as he said, "I sense much potential in you, young one. Happy will your aunt be ..."
"Now ..." Master Yoda intoned, "Don your headgear and ignite your lightsabers, you all will. The start of your defense class, this is!" Upon those words, several tiny, spherical remotes ejected from a sliding panel on a nearby wall, and each floated in front of a child. With helmets and lightsabers ready, each child stood ready for their first lesson in one of the most essential of the Jedi arts.
Upon mid-afternoon, class for the Bear Clan was over. Breaking from his group, Sudarshaan traveled through a winding hallway in the upper levels. Finding the familiar doorway, the boy pressed a nearby button. The reaction was a sound which resembled the clanging of an archaic bell, followed by the soft, calming voice of his Aunt, "Enter ..."
The young Chalactan passed through as the white mechanical door swished open, revealing a small room, which, although quite spartan, was cozy just the same. The sweet aroma of incense permeated the room, as Sudarshaan noticed several sticks resting upon a stand on Depa's desk, alight with a billow of smoke. His Aunt was seated on her bed in a lotus position, all set to begin their daily regiment of meditation.
It had been a few months since the boy was starting to learn the ways of the Chalactan, in addition to the ways of the Jedi. As Depa quoted one of the first Chalactan Jedi Masters in recorded Jedi history, "Jedi are Chalactans without a god, Chalactans are Jedi without lightsabers", so being both was considered a blessing by many. But some, like her brother Vaas, continued to see the combination as a bitter curse.
Depa extended her right hand outward, to a space on the bed. Young Sudarshaan, without verbal queue, climbed atop the bed next to his aunt, adopting the same sitting position as her. The Jedi Master turned to her nephew, "Master Yoda told me that you were accepted into the Bear Clan today." She calmly noted. Sudarshaan gave a boyish grin, "Yes, Depa Maiya. Master Yoda told me I'm doing better than all the other children and not to boast about it." Depa could not suppress her grin. Such is the effect of witnessing the innocence of Jedi children.
But then again, Sudarshaan was not typical, even for a Jedi child. Children of his race were notoriously aware of all around them, Jedi or not, and were also quite precocious. Within less than a standard year of life, their ability to hold memories was functional; they also spoke on a rudimentary, but coherent level. He could even recount the time, as he was sitting in his crib in the Jedi nursery, that he became aware of all things, all life around him. In recent years, he was also able to anticipate the emotions of others. Chalactan perception, coupled with his growing skills in the Jedi arts, rendered him one of the foremost of the "younglings", as Master Yoda would call them with fond affection.
"Close your eyes ..." Depa instructed her nephew, "and breathe --" suddenly a tiny hand was tugging upon the Jedi Master's forearm. As she turned to glance at the boy, Sudarshaan stammered a question, "The Jedi, Maiya. I see less and less of them every day." Depa raised an eyebrow. She had hoped that young Sudarshaan's power of perception was not adequate to feel the tinge of despair permeating the halls of the Jedi Temple.
"Is it because of the Clone Wars, Maiya?" The elder Jedi placed two fingers upon the lips of the boy. "Now" she began, "They are all one with the Force." The short hair on Sudarshaan's short cropped hair seemed to bristle, and the long, black braid draped on his right shoulder appeared to twitch slightly. "One with the Force?" He echoed.
"We will all become one with the Force." The Jedi Master softly intoned, her voice saturated with a sense of motherly nurturing. "Nobody can stop our destiny and the cycle of life. We must not be confused, but only accept. In this way, we will always be together, Sudarshaan. The Force shall keep us together."
"Now ..." Depa announced, changing the subject. "We must meditate. Just as I taught you. We will clear our minds of questions, and extinguish any anxiety ..."
The elder and the younger of Chalactan Jedi each slowly closed their eyes, gradually absorbing themselves in deep contemplation.
Several months, perhaps a year, had passed since that day. Sudarshaan lay prone on the top bunk bed in a room with one other bunk, occupied by three other children of the Bear Clan. As his eyes flickered, struggling to stay open and wake, a realization formed in his young mind. This was another day, passing by. Another day without Depa Maiya. It had been several months since he had seen her last; the conversation and meditation they shared together had served as a final beacon to which the boy frequently drew upon, in hopes of contacting his aunt.
Even Master Yoda would hesitate upon hearing the boy's questions after class. "Away, she is ..." he'd simply reply, sometimes followed by his teacher gently imploring him to clear his mind of fear and questions. Master Yoda had not taught the Bear Clan for days. The older Jedi passed a message to the children from their preceptor; he was far too busy, and to study their textbooks meticulously until he could continue teaching them.
Each time he reached out with the Force, however, there was nothing. Even during times when she was called off-world for a mission, there would be some trace. Now, void. He had overheard talk among the older boys, the Padawans with Jedi Masters, of a darkness clouding over everything. Even the Force itself. Or at least this is what he came to understand the conversation to be. The older boys swiftly changed the subject as they saw young Sudarshaan's anxious gazing eyes and felt the distinct signature of his fear in the ripples of the Force.
The mood in the Jedi Temple had become increasingly somber, as if the older folk were in a constant state of mourning. Many Jedi had been lost during the Clone Wars. Was Aunt Depa one of them? The young Chalactan could not be sure. While laying upon his bed, staring at the ceiling in post-wake drowsiness, a sudden rumble rocked the room, knocking Ryle Oldan, the Corellian boy occupying the other top bunk, clear off his bed.
"Ryle!" Sudarshaan called out. "Are you alright?" The young Corellian stirred, and slowly hefted himself off the floor into a sitting position. Shaking his head, he turned to the young Chalactan. "Sudarshaan ..." he called to him in a weary voice, while shaking his head. "What's going on?"
As if in reply to the youngling's question, the door to their bedroom swished open, revealing the young Padawan Gell Habond, lightsaber hilt in hand. An Alderaanian at the peak of his teenage years, his short brown hair was disheveled and his earth-toned robe had a deep gash. "Children!" he announced. "We've got to get out of here now, no time to explain!" Gell's statement was interrupted by the distant voice of another Jedi. "The way to the hangar has been closed off!" the yelling voice faintly resonated in the distance. "We have to make our stand here!"
Grimacing, Gell ignited his lightsaber. "Nevermind, kids." He told them all, his tone growing urgent. "You'll all have to stay here, for the time being. Lock the door, and don't leave this room until we return!"
Staggering off the floor, Ryle did as instructed; tapping several keys on the door control, the door swished closed, a red light in its center indicated that it was locked. "What's gonna happen now?" Ryle said, looking up at Sudarshaan, hoping he had the answer to the group's fears. The two other children, Sarda the Mon Calamari and Tookoss the Gand, emerged from their respective bottom bunks, and flanked Ryle. "I don't know." Sarda, the calmest of the three admitted to his friends. "Let's reach out with the Force." All, including Sudarshaan, reached out with the Force, in an attempt to understand the situation outside.
As the group's senses turned outward, in the room where Gell and the other older boys were, they were struck by the most dark and ominous of feelings that any of them ever encountered. Tookoss was the first one to be taken by it. Perhaps it was the "findsman's intuition" of his species. He began to shiver and convulse, finally locked into a fetal position. Ryle and Sarda were next. Their eyes became distant, then dilated. They both took frequent, shallow breaths. Now, all were paralyzed by the fear outside, except for young Sudarshaan.
As the Chalactan boy was about to give in to the apparition of fear, the words of Aunt Depa resonated in his mind. "We will all become one with the Force. Nobody can stop our destiny and the cycle of life. We must not be confused, but only accept. In this way, we will always be together, Sudarshaan. The Force shall keep us together."
The Jedi boy decided to leave, despite Gell's instructions. Whatever was out there, Sudarshaan had to find some way to leave. And he had to be absolutely sure that he could escape. His Chalactan brown eyes darted about the bedroom, and spotted an air vent by the ceiling which led to the Temple's primary climate control system. Hooking both his feet onto a nearby bed railing, he dangled over a nearby footlocker at the base of his bunk bed rummaged through it. Under his helmet and robes, he found his training lightsaber. Brandishing the lightsaber, he ignited it, unleashing a short, green pillar of light, and cut through the vent grill as if it were nothing at all. As he hoisted himself inside, he wheeled about to stick his head outside and called to his roommates, "Come on, everybody! I found a way out! Come on!"
But Ryle, Sarda, and Tookoss were each in the midst of a terrifying, waking nightmare, of which none could shake off. Even the mature, collected Sarda was shivering incessantly, and tears streamed out of Ryle's far away eyes. Tookoss had become completely comatose.
The bedroom shook once again, almost throwing Sudarshaan out of the ventilation shaft. The others of his beloved Bear Clan were continued to be unresponsive. Distant voices screamed mournfully, as the distinct clatter of boots could be heard drawing ever closer to the boys' barracks section. The movements, both heard and Force sensed, were definitely not Jedi-like. The movement of their feet -- nigh, the relentless pounding of the floor -- was far more aggressive. The feeling of hatred seemed to be on the verge of bursting forth from the nearby walls.
"Come on!" the Chalactan boy screamed to his companions for the third and last time. As he saw it was of no avail, he disappeared from the opening, crawling swiftly and furtively through the air vent, toward the Temple climate control system. As he continued to crawl, he heard sounds -- not just from his own bedroom, but also the rooms of the other children. The Jedi child listened intently to the loud, aggressive voices and plasma energy bursts, followed by the blood-curdling screams of young children. The screams were loud and sustained, but suddenly all went silent. Young Sudarshaan probed that area with his mind, and upon this action, confirmed his worst fears. No life. Just bitter hatred, followed by pain and death. Tears streamed down Sudarshaan's cheeks, and he gradually forgot his plan to escape. His ability to remain fearless was suddenly stripped from him, as he collapsed from his position on all fours, as he fell into a swift faint.
As a military task force of the newly incepted Galactic Empire deployed its starfleet away from Coruscant in pursuit of a mysterious, elusive quarry, a lone, modified Bulk Cruiser furtively entered the City Planet's upper atmosphere. Its battle-scarred exterior denoted a well-used private starship that only Corellian smugglers would dare to commandeer. Long, curvaceous wings, vaguely reminiscent of the great starships of the Mon Calamari, flanked the port and starboard sides of the vessel. Each wing was adorned with sleek, impressive engines on its dorsal side, and a deadly laser turret on its ventral. As it descended further, the bulky nose of the Cruiser aimed itself squarely toward a section of the city blanketed with dense, dark gray smoke.
Inside the bridge of the modified Bulk Cruiser, a young man no older than twenty was tending to the ship's helm. "Boss," he said to the tall man of thirty-five standing next to him. "I have the coordinates, but there's too much interference to make a clear landing." The captain, his bulky frame draped in a long, dark cape, stood at the bridge, gazing stoically at the largely obscured devastation.
"First the Clone Wars, and now this ..." the captain muttered under his breath.
"Pardon?" the young man inquired.
"That's fine." He replied simply. "Use the sensor array to lock onto those plasma fires. I'll be taking her in from there."
Nodding sharply, the helmsman drew the ship closer toward the smoke, until the viewport served no purpose. "Mister Hiran," the helmsman announced, leaving his seat, and gesturing with his right arm toward the controls. "She's all yours."
The captain sat down swiftly, hitting several keys on the console, one after another. He studied a nearby computer readout meticulously. "Auxiliary hangarbay seems to be intact ... it's point three-five klicks straight down." he murmured, turning to his helmsman with a slight smirk. "That was a fine job, helmsman. One more meter would have given us an extra dent on the nose."
The young man grinned sheepishly. His captain gave him a handheld comlink, and returned his attention to the helm controls. "Contact Jessa." the elder man instructed, while pulling a lever. "Tell her to make sure that the men with the anti-grav units are deployed by the forward hatch, but standby for my announcement that we have a clear seal."
"Sure thing, boss ..." the young man replied.
"And make sure they do their sweep and get out of there fast. Our sources said we only have a forty-five minute window before standard patrols return."
Nothing could be seen outside of the ship, save for the waning blue lights of the repulsorlift engines. Descending ever so slightly, the modified cruiser's forward landing claw annexed itself onto the battered shell that was once the Jedi Temple, its laser burned hull almost merging into the collage of devastation.
Young Sudarshaan awoke with a shiver. Pressed against the cold surface of the cramped, metallic air vent corridors with a torrent of cold air from the vent's source, the Jedi boy could only comprehend the complete absence of heat in his waking moment. Was the Temple's climate control center malfunctioning? His young body had a natural disposition for warm, humid climates like those found on Chalacta. Rallying his constitution with the Force, Sudarshaan became relatively unaffected by the cold. Now a more important question remained. Why was he in the cramped Jedi Temple's air vent, on all fours?
Suddenly, a cascade of memories filled the young boy's mind.
The unparalleled fear. The aggressive clattering of boots. The screams of his classmates.
So it was not a story formed by slumber, after all. It had all truly happened. And he still failed to understand what the nature of this occurrence was. All he could ascertain were intense memories of the fear that his peers were held paralyzed from, and the burning aggression of the unknown group of invaders.
The young Chalactan tried once again to draw his senses outward with the Force, for as far as he could go. Nothing. Only the residual of horrific events beyond his understanding remained. Suddenly, his mind's eye detected several tiny ripples in the Force emerging. Had the enemy returned? Probing the Force further, he could not be sure. No aura of hatred was found, but it certainly was not an aura of light emitted by Master Yoda or even his young Bear Clan friends. Nevertheless, whatever, or whoever these newcomers were, it would be safe to take a peek.
Crawling for what seemed to be kilometers toward an open vent overlooking the spacious main hall of the barracks level which served as a dining area, the young Jedi glanced from one side of the hall to the other. It was quite dark, except for the dim, red glow of auxiliary power lighting. As he was readying himself to climb out of the ventilation shaft and prepare himself for the five meter drop to the floor, three thin beams of light flooded the hall, jerking from side to side.
Suddenly, the distinct clatter of boots had returned. Did the enemy return for him? Did he not sense them because the Force had been clouded by the Dark Side, just as those older Padawan boys had said several days ago?
Peering from his position on all fours at the ventilation shaft opening, young Sudarshaan probed the darkness with his eyes, searching for the source of these dancing lights. Three humanoid silhouettes emerged from the red-tinted darkness, each holding an illumination cylinder in one hand, a blaster pistol in the other.
As the newcomers strode closer, the Jedi boy spotted two young men not older than twenty-five, flanking a tall, Corellian woman of thirty. She sported dark long coat, covering a charcoal tinted jumpsuit. Her black hair was tied back in a simple bun. Young Sudarshaan had never seen non-Force sensitive beings before. His sense of fear was complemented by curiousity.
Gesturing with her open hand, the woman's two charges stopped abruptly. Speaking to neither in particular, she asked, "Do you think there's anything big down here?"
The man flanking her left offered a reply. "I don't think so, Misses Kebro." This seems to be one of the only sections that survived the attack, and all that remains here are storage rooms, hydroponics, and the youth barracks. I think we've already made off with whatever there is of value in the lower levels. Mr. Hiran left with several to the hangar bay adjacent to our port of entry, perhaps their search proved to be more fruitful. Should I attempt to contact him?"
The woman shook her head. "Not yet ..." Pointing to a hallway with her illumination cylinder, she continued, "Check those other rooms over there. Once you're through with that, I think we had better high-tail it back to the Akaga. This was definitely a big gamble, and the misery outweighs any kind of reward."
"Yes, ma'am.", they replied in unison, as they approached the barracks, holding their blaster pistols in a ready position.
In the meantime, Sudarshaan edged closer to the vent for a better look at the Corellian woman. As he craned his head forward, his elbow suddenly slipped from the slick, metallic surface of the ventilation shaft, and he swiftly collapsed. A sharp thud resonated throughout the hall.
"Who's there?" the woman called out, her head darting from side to side.
Sudarshaan froze upon hearing her alarmed voice. This time, he was too absorbed in the moment to draw upon his calming abilities. All he could feel was the residual fear from the past ordeal. And the cold. The intense feeling of cold seemed to burn his skin. It penetrated his body, and even the air that he breathed. Suddenly, his nose became irritated, and young Sudarshaan sneezed so loudly, it echoed throughout the hall. The woman immediately turned to Sudarshaan's direction, aiming her weapon toward the air vent.
"I said, who's there?" she asked again. Peering through the vent grating and the darkness within, she espied the wide, fear-filled brown eyes of young Sudarshaan.
"A child?" the woman called out in a soft, sustained voice, sheepishly holstering her sidearm. "Is it possible that anyone had survived this massacre, least of all, a child?" She pondered.
The tension on her face melted away, leaving behind a slight smile. "It's alright ..." she called out to the timid pair of eyes. "We're not here to hurt you, we just came here to search for survivors." "More like searching for surviving mementos worth their weight in Corusca gems on the black market!" she thought. "Be nice, Jessa. That boy has been to hell and back. You have to understand, remember what you went through with Cyeesh--" her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by pangs of grief not easily put away.
"Hey, can you get out of there?" the woman spoke, gracefully extending an open right hand toward the Jedi boy.
Young Sudarshaan began to prod and push at
the vent grating, until it fell and clattered upon the floor.
"Do you need help getting down?" she asked, in a soft, concerned tone which she likely reserved for children. Tiny feet emerged from the open vent, as the Chalactan child propelled himself out of the vent with his arms and dropped gracefully to the floor in a slow, controlled descent. The female visitor gazed in awe. "I guess not ..." she remarked.
Young Sudarshaan stood where he landed, his eyes transfixed upon those of the woman's. She approached the boy slowly and knelt next to him. "My name is Jessa. Jessa Kebro. What's yours?"
The boy said nothing, his deep brown eyes not abandoning their gaze.
"It's OK ..." Jessa assured him. "I want to help you." The soft tap of work boots echoed from the direction that Jessa's charges had gone to.
Rising to full height and spinning in the direction of the footsteps, Jessa's eyes met those of her two assistants. "So, have you found anything?" she inquired in an official tone.
One of the men stepped closer, his eyes darting first to the boy, but then to his employer. "Nothing, except --" his words were suddenly interrupted by a sharp jab of the second man's elbow into the side of the first, while overtly eyeballing the young boy.
"Let him finish." Jessa demanded. The speaker continued. "Nothing, except for several dead children." Young Sudarshaan trembled. Jessa's eyes widened and blinked, releasing a stream of tears down her cheeks. "Those bastards ..." she intoned. "What they wont do to innocents." Suddenly realizing that she was with her young employees, Jessa quickly wiped her tears with her fingers and made an effort to quell her emotions.
Her composure returned, she first glanced at young Sudarshaan and then at her charges. "We have to leave right this instant." She announced. "But first ..." Jessa reached into a hip pocket and pulled out a small comlink, holding it between her mouth and ear.
"Kebro to Hiran. Kylesh, do you read me?"
The man known as Kylesh Hiran replied through crackled static, "Yes indeed. You finished on your end?"
"Everything of value's being loaded by the guys with the anti-grav units." Jessa replied. "What about on your end? You find anything interesting?"
"Not really ..." Hiran replied. His tone suddenly changed from official, to one of almost boyish glee, "Except for four Delta-7 Aerthersprite interceptors in the auxilliary hangerbay!"
A huge grin suddenly overtook Jessa's face. "Jedi Starfighters! Now that should fetch lots of credits. This sure beats selling spice!"
"It does indeed." the comlink voice smugly replied. "Our starfighter tech just informed me that one of the fighters is the Advanced Delta-7 Prototype. Internal hyperdrive unit. No support ship, no bulky booster ring needed for hyperspace."
"I told you every dark cloud has a shining, silver lining, Kylesh. Now let's get away from here before we really find some trouble."
"Woman after my own heart. Everything's already loaded into the cargo bay, and we're firing up the repulsors once you and your people get back to the rendezvous point."
"We'll be there in five. Jessa out."
As she placed her comlink back into her pocket, the man who earlier wished to spare the young Jedi boy from hearing of the fate of his classmates spoke up.
"What about the boy?" He asked.
Jessa knelt at young Sudarshaan's side, taking his tiny hand into hers. "For the time being, he'll be coming with us." She replied matter-of-factly.
"What are you saying?!" the first employee exclaimed, his eyes widened to their capacity. "Can't you see what that boy is? He'd be an even bigger liability to us than a space cruiser filled to the brim with spice!"
Jessa glared at him, narrowing her eyes. "You forget that I'm the one who gives the orders and doles out the credits, and you're the one who gets paid to follow them. If you have a problem with the way I operate, perhaps you should find another line of work." She shot back.
"We'll be passing Dantooine on the way home, we can drop you off there. I'm sure they could use an extra nerf herder." She added sardonically.
He stood there with a slight sheepish grin. "That's OK, ma'am, I like this job just fine."
Returning her attention to the boy, Jessa looked into his eyes. She knew the look. Fear, bordering on terror. It seemed to be on the road to subsiding once he did not perceive the group to be a threat, but nothing could easily wipe away the fear caused by this. Senseless destruction, reminders of which could be seen in every direction of the ransacked, desiccated hall.
"We're going to have to get out of here, right now." Jessa told young Sudarshaan. The child's facial expression remained unchanged. Still holding the young Jedi's right hand, Jessa gave it a tender squeeze. "Look, I've seen my fair share of tragedies, boy. I know what you're going through."
Jessa broke eye contact and stared into the void of darkness on the other end of the hall, her eyes fixed on something which nobody knew of. Even amongst his confusion, young Sudarshaan could discern a feeling of kindness, engulfed by a heavy sadness of which he had never encountered before.
"I know we seem strange to you, like nothing you've ever seen in your home ..." Jessa began, "but for now, we can protect you from those bad guys that are after you."
The young Jedi composed himself from his fear, assessed the newcomers, and felt no danger. But suddenly, his attention was drawn from the newcomers, to the high-vaulted ceiling of the great hall. Looking up with wide eyes, he spotted a huge support beam, buckling under the strain of unseen forces above.
Young Sudarshaan's demeanor suddenly changed, from a fear furrowed brow to a doggedly determined grimace. "Look out!" He yelled, as he swiftly took Jessa by the hand, sprinting, while yanking her hand with as much strength as a young boy with the Force could muster. Without further warning, the beam snapped free from its bearings and hurtled below.
Jessa looked up, and darted ahead with the boy, just in time to avoid being pinned by mortar and debris. Unfortunately, Jessa's two employees were not so lucky. Knocked squarely on their heads, the mercenaries flopped flimsily to the ground. Their blaster rifles clattered on the floor, in a final note of defiance.
Suddenly, the stinging pangs of hunger returned, so intense that he could no longer control them. The added shock of the flying debris immediately sent young Sudarshaan into a faint, as he too hit the floor.
Gazing at the two carcasses, Jessa shut her eyes. Her fists were clenched, localizing her rage. "What a waste ..." she pondered bitterly. Her eyes opened, as she turned toward the unconscious boy. Squatting by his limp body, she extended her arms, cradling his small frame. Carrying young Sudarshaan in both arms, Jessa drew him into the folds of her long coat. She left the spacious hall and headed toward the hangarbay where her ship lay docked, surrounded by the thick cloud of smoke outside.
In the same moment that Jessa and her charges safely boarded the Akaga, the cruiser's landing claw was released from the remains of the once impregnable Jedi Temple. The steady hum of the Repulsorlift engines grew louder, as the ship tried to gain as much distance from the site as possible without looking conspicuous.
Walking through the higher deck's hallway, the privateer Jessa Kebro furtively carried the unconscious boy covered by her coat. Reaching her personal cabin, she pushed the nearby button with a soft jab of her elbow. The door swished open, revealing a spartan, yet spacious stateroom with a large viewing window. Gingerly laying the unconscious young Jedi on the wide bed, Jessa removed her coat and placed it on a nearby hook. She tugged at the bun of her hair, releasing long, straight locks that almost reached her waist.
"The boy!" she thought to herself in great alarm, while she reached to stroke his forehead. "I hope he'll be alright. He's got to survive." With that thought, she opened the door to the deck hallway, and gestured to an unseen individual. A bipedal medical droid hobbled slowly into the room. "See to him. Notify me of any changes." Jessa ordered the droid. "Affirmative." the droid simply replied in his filtered monotone. "I'll be on the bridge." she concluded.
Jessa entered the bridge, which was flooded by the brilliance of the Coruscant sunset. She studied the figures hovering over each of the three stations. The disheveled shoulder-length black hair of the man at the helm betrayed him to be none other than Kylesh Hiran. Unlike most privateers working in the field, his attire was elaborate; a long, dark cape covering colorful fatigues, typically worn by the bourgeois of Corellia. The façade of a completely legitimate businessman.
Splitting his attention between a console readout and the cockpit's window, he carefully brought the ship through a seldom-traveled part of the City Planet. Jessa tapped on the pirate's caped shoulder. He turned, startled, but upon seeing her, his eyes widened and their lips touched.
"Jessa!" Mr. Hiran exclaimed with a grin. "What kept you so long?" Jessa rolled her eyes and glared at him. "Never ask a lady about preparation, Kylesh. Now, are we set to get off this planet?" He nodded an affirmative. "Punch it!" she replied. The Akaga's sublight engines flared on, as the ship suddenly lurched upward toward the stars. Jessa raised an eyebrow as they were treated to the Coruscant skyline. "I can't believe we pulled this off, and we're just walking away ..."
Kylesh scrutinized her devil-may-care facial expression and countered with his own frown of disapproval. "I wouldn't celebrate yet." he began. "The regular patrols are back and they're everywhere. We're going to have to take the long way out."
With that final exchange, the Kebro-Hiran Combine's primary starship blazed through the sky. Zigging and zagging furtively to avoid orbital sentry posts and sensor arrays. But the real trick would be to make it seem as if avoiding these posts was purely unintentional. Kylesh had a knack for being inconspicuous, especially from a bridge or a cockpit.
Eventually, as they were a good distance from Coruscant's orbital arrays, the Akaga plowed into the ethereal void of space. Inside the bridge, Jessa scrutinized a screen displaying sensor readouts. "Several craft have just dropped out of hyperspace." She began. "They're fifteen klicks away, but too close for us. How far are we from our own hyperspace point?" Kylesh drew his attention away from the helm. "About five minutes." He replied. A smirk crossed his face. "You took your sweet time to get out of there, now you're in a big hurry to leave?"
"Yes." She replied, slightly exasperated. "I lost two men in there, cut me some slack."
Jessa snapped her fingers, as if she had suddenly remembered something important. "That reminds me. I'll be right back." Jessa told Kylesh. "If anything important happens, get me on the comlink." Kylesh nodded to her slightly in affirmation, returning his full attention to the helm.
Returning to her quarters, Jessa scrutinized the diligent medical droid hovering over the unconscious Jedi boy. Her fervent sense of urgency overcame all else, including the perilous situation of the Akaga. "How's he doing?" she inquired. The medical droid's gaze turned from the sleeping Jedi boy to Jessa as it began to ramble away, "The boy is quite durable. All chemical ratios stable and in galaxy-specified quantities. No outstanding physical injuries. He was suffering from malnutrition and dehydration. Rations were given. Now, he is resting comfortably. End of medical--" suddenly, the medical droid's report was interrupted by the starship's klaxons, followed by an announcement. "Jessa, you had better get back here." Kylesh announced via the ship's speakers, with a tone of great urgency. "We're gonna get boarded."
Jessa sprinted back to the Akaga's bridge. Eyeing him carefully, she asked, "Now what's all this about being boarded, Kylesh?" He looked back at her with a grave look, the likes of which she had not seen from him in a long time of their being in the privateer business together. "This may be the end of the road unless we think of something fast." Kylesh replied, as he gestured with an open hand toward a rather large starship, obviously bent toward maintaining law and order in Coruscant space. Jessa shot back while doing her best to conceal an insuppressible smirk, "Being boarded is one thing. Getting caught? That's something else ..."
With that said, Jessa hovered over one of the auxiliary stations and activated the communications array. "This is the trading vessel Akaga. Please state your intentions." A monotone voice echoed through the speakers, "This is Coruscant Space Security vessel VX-102. Please stand down and prepare to be boarded for cargo inspection."
Jessa replied without hesitation "We shall stand down, but we have no cargo aboard. Our main trades are exotic textiles and rare ores. We have just completed a monetary transaction and are preparing our journey to our next port of call."
The voice, devoid of emotion, replied, "That is fine, but inspection must be conducted. Standby to receive boarding party."
Jessa abandoned the communications console and stared into the voids of space.
Kylesh tapped a nearby bridge tech on the shoulder, and as he turned around, he asked him, "Have those passive dampening field generators been properly deployed in the hangar bays?"
"Yes, sir." he confirmed.
"Good. Make sure that everything else that we collected today is stowed in the under-deck compartments."
"At once, sir." he replied, leaving his station to satisfy his orders.
"I have to take care of something really important, Kylesh. I'll speak to the inspectors, but please keep them occupied until I return."
Kylesh let out a distinctive groan and approached Jessa. "I'm the pilot of this operation. And you could talk down the Emperor himself if it meant getting a good profit. I think whatever you need to take care of can be handled by the techs."
"It really can't. I have to see to this myself. You'll have to trust me on this. Just give them the guided tour, and I'll be right there in a moment." Jessa replied, as she swiftly entered the corridor, en route to her quarters.
Kylesh was overtaken by the urgency and confusion of the situation, and could only manage a final whining line "What's so important, Jessa?" With these words said, the Akaga briefly rocked from side to side, as magnetic boarding clamps were affixed to their hull. Kylesh got the attention of two nearby techs, and said, "Come with me. Let's head for the starboard airlock."
In the meantime, Jessa entered her quarters, and instructed the medical droid to leave. "Wake up, boy." Jessa said, as he tapped him on the shoulder. Sudarshaan awoke, fighting the daze of fatigue, which had been haunting him for days. "I'm sorry to do this now, but we're going to have to get you out of those clothes. We're going to get company very soon" Jessa would have rather placed the boy within the dampening field, where his life sign wouldn't be detected, but his weakened physical condition complicated those plans. Plus, she didn't want to clue in anymore people regarding the origin of the child.
Jessa opened a small, ornately crafted chest in a forgotten corner of her quarters. She removed two articles of quite fashionable clothing, of Corellian design, made for a boy of approximately Sudarshaan's age. The Chalactan boy silently complied with Jessa's unspoken request to remove his kimono and put on the new set of clothing. As he was dressed, Jessa scrutinized the boy, and pursed her lips, in thought. "While it's nothing that I'd buy for you, personally, it'll have to do for the moment. Wait a moment! I almost forgot ..."
Jessa suddenly brandished a small, sharp knife, and approached Sudarshaan. He felt no danger. With one hand on his scalp, she took her knife and quickly sliced off his tell-tale Jedi braids. "I'm sorry ..." she said to the boy as she stuffed his Jedi fatigues with training lightsaber into a nearby garbage chute. "But until we can return to our home, we're going to have some unwanted company. They wont hurt us if you don't talk to them, and stay quiet." Jessa suddenly raised an eyebrow as she continued to lecture the young boy, "And no tricks, if you know what I mean."
The doors to Jessa's quarters suddenly swished open, revealing a customs officer of humorless demeanor, dressed in a uniform of dull olive green. He was flanked by two stormtroopers, with Kylesh eagerly watching nearby.
Without any introduction, the customs officer blandly spoke to Jessa in his tireless, official tone. "Mr. Kylesh Hiran tells us that you both own a trading company named the Kebro-Hiran Combine ..."
"Correct."
"Very well. We were informed by Mr. Hiran that you were dropping off a shipment of textiles and precious metals. He also mentioned that you were paid in credits, in lieu of merchandise ..."
"Yes, indeed."
"Would you happen to have a receipt of transaction?"
"Certainly ..." Jessa replied, as she reached for a datapad inside a pocket of her jumpsuit, and handed it to the customs officer. He scrutinized it for a few moments. Moments which for Jessa and Kylesh felt like an eternity. Finally, the officer took a breath, and looked up. "Coruscant City Fashions and Kieran's metals. This all seems to be in order." Jessa almost breathed an audible sigh of relief before checking herself. Thank the maker for local contacts and money laundering.
As the customs officer and his escorts were about to leave, his glance met that of young Sudarshaan. He signaled his troops to stay put. "What of the boy?" he asked. "Yours?" Kylesh met eyes with Jessa and raised his eyebrow in an unspoken query.
"Yes." she replied. "He is my nephew."
"Nephew?" the officer repeated, seemingly making note of Sudarshaan's bronze skin.
"My brother-in-law was a Chalactan." Jessa replied, matter-of-factly.
"Is there any identification?" the officer inquired.
"No," she began, "He and his parents were evacuating a colony under attack from mercenaries. His parents did not make it and everything had to be abandoned."
"Give me a name." he replied curtly.
"Cyeesh. Cyeesh Kebro."
With that exchange, the customs officer pulled out a sleek datapad. From his vantage point from behind, Kylesh could see him attempting to match the name given by Jessa with a list of thousands of names on the datapad. The customs officer completed his search with the efficiency of a droid.
Young Sudarshaan ventured to touch the mind of the officer. Master Yoda once introduced the Bear Clan to touching the minds of others. It was worth a try. A vague sense of failure is all he could feel from him at the moment. Sensing impending peril, his only course of action now was to draw himself within through meditation. But he could not clear his mind completely. One sentence. A wish, perhaps, or an imperative, was directed toward the dangerous individuals. "I am not here. I am not here." This was all that he could manage at the moment. Suddenly, the officer's demeanor changed.
He turned to his stormtrooper escort and announced, "There's nothing to report here. Let's not dally here, we need to return to our patrols." The officer's charges nodded, as they headed toward the airlock, boarded their vessel, and disappeared as quickly as they had originally appeared on sensors. "Load off my mind ..." murmured Kylesh, as he paced in the stateroom. "Now Jessa, What of that boy? That officer seemed to take an acute interest. " Jessa eyeballed Kylesh carefully, not so much as opening her mouth to offer a word in reply.
"You don't have a Chalactan brother-in-law, Jessa. I hope this boy didn't come from where I think he did ..."
Jessa hushed him, gently holding up two fingers close to his mouth, and making a silent eye-to-eye gesture toward the nearby techs. Jessa approached her partner closely, taking his hand with two of her own, "I'll explain when we return home, and unload our catch of the day." Jessa murmured into his ear. Glancing in the Jedi boy's direction, they found him to be outstretched on their bed, fast asleep, the gentle rise and fall of his chest his only movement.
Young Sudarshaan lay on a bed, in a room found on the upper levels of the Jedi Temple. The nearby desk, with sticks of aromatic incense alight, revealed this room to be that of Aunt Depa. Blinking his eyes, he struggled through his fatigue to rise. So it had all been a dream. He knew it. How could the Jedi be beaten? It had to be a dream. Even the disappearance of his Aunt. They would always be together. She said so herself.
With that thought, the door swished open, revealing the hooded, serene form of Depa Billaba. "Depa Maiya!" the boy called out, his arms outstretched toward his Aunt. Depa sat next to him, meeting his embrace. "Sudarshaan ..." she spoke softly. "Now is not the time to be awake. There is great darkness outside. Light will not return for some time. Now is the time for children to sleep."
Young Sudarshaan blinked, his eyes widening. "But I don't want to sleep, Maiya! The last time I slept, I had a bad dream. I was scared. Jedi aren't supposed to be scared."
Depa caressed her nephew's cheek. "But sleep you must. And when you wake, light will return, and you will have so much strength. Trust in me." The boy grew relaxed in her arms. As she stroked his short cropped hair, she sang a short, hauntingly melancholic hymn. Her peaceful, melodic voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Madhurah Svehpna ...Madhurah Svehpna ..."
Sleep came swiftly.
DISCLAIMER: Chronicle of the Dervish: The Life of a Displaced Jedi is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.